The Name of Life
by Min Daae
Summary: Maeglin and Tuor never got along very well at all. And that may be an understatement. Character death and extremely disturbed Maeglin, as per the usual.


_Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. –Friedrich Nietzsche_

_You are afraid of him. _

Once upon a time, Maeglin had thought that he'd hated his father. Now he understood, however, that he was mistaken. He had never hated his father. There had been no love there, but it was not hate. Because hate tasted like this, and _this _was so much more.

Tuor stood before him with something that tried to be a smile. Maeglin knew better than to be deceived by smiles. His father had smiled, sometimes. _You do not deceive me._ "What are you doing here?" He asked, clipping his vowels short, drawing himself up. "This isn't a place for wandering guests."

"—I was invited," Tuor said, after a moment, seeming confused. "No one told me it was forbidden. Lómion-"

"Don't call me that," Maeglin hissed. Don't use my mother name. Not with your unworthy tongue. For a moment, a flash of irritation crossed Tuor's fair face.

"Prince, then," he said, impatiently. "I mean no harm. Why do you treat me with such suspicion? A moment ago I was – visiting your fair cousin, Itarildë…"

His insides turned to ice that stabbed into his heart. He knew, of course. There was no one who did not know that his cousin, his sister, his _beloved _looked with more favor on this petty Man of set years and mortal weakness than any other. One word to him held more than any glance she had ever bestowed on him, and he felt reminded again of what he was – a low and dark thing cowering in Tuor's lengthening shadow.

_He will kill you. _

Smiles were easy, when you knew how to make them. "All the more reason for me to be wary, isn't it? No brother would ever watch his kinswoman wooed away by a…vagrant." Tuor stiffened, though Maeglin was struck once again by the image of chipping away at a statue. The man took an angry step forward, and Maeglin fought not to shrink back.

"Why do you have so much venom towards me?" He asked. "Do you fear that I speak the truth? Are you willfully blind to the risks you take, to the danger that is at your door? The Vala Ulmo-"

"Why," he asked, and could not keep the bitterness from his voice, "should any of the Valar offer aid, when it was _they _who cast us out to begin with? Why should they offer warning when they will not even extend a hand to help? If this is our darkest hour, and the need is so dire, where are they now, that they can only send _you _to plead for them?" He was nearly trembling, for a moment, and forced himself to stillness. "Who is to say you are not a liar, a charlatan, or worse-"

He saw Tuor's fists clench, the anger rising in his face. "Do not accuse me of – I am trying to _help _you! I don't understand-"

"You are pushing us to abandon everything," he said. Drew a breath, feeling sick, and lied. "This place is safe. This place is _hidden._"

"No longer," Tuor said grimly, and Maeglin nearly lashed out then. His voice did crack, and he hated the sound of it, next to Tuor's musical, powerful voice with the strength of the sea.

"The Enemy will never come here!"

And for a moment, he thought he saw sorrow in Tuor's eyes, and pain. "He will," he said. "You know he will. And after this place has fallen, what then? There are very few strongholds left. Please, Lómion-"

"Don't call me that," harsher, this time. He knew, oh, he knew. He did not shudder only because he had too much will for that. _Trust no one. Sooner or later, they all mean to kill you. _

His father's words. "You cannot speak to me like this-"

Tuor's hand snapped out, grabbed his wrist. "I am speaking to you as a brother," he said, and there was desperation in his eyes. "Please, I beg you. Listen to me. I mean to marry Itarillë-"

In that moment, everything except the hatred, for the blink of an eye, simply ceased to be. It was his universe, his heartbeat, his stronghold, his lover. And then the world had returned, but the hatred was not gone. "No," he said, and his voice was suddenly clear. "No, you cannot. I will not _let _you."

For a moment Tuor's expression was only shocked. Then it was angry. "It is not your choice to make," he said, sharply. "I don't understand – I am to be your brother-"

"You are no brother of mine," Maeglin snarled, and crossed the distance, and shoved him back. "My father's line will not be diluted by any weak _Man's _blood, I will never call you by any name but _liar-_"

"He is not your father," Tuor said, suddenly, and hotly, and Maeglin froze.

"I beg your pardon?"

"He is not your father," Tuor said again, and when Maeglin looked at him he could see that he was trembling with rage. "That noble man could never have sired you. Itarillë told-"

It was like a blow beneath his ribs, driving all the air out of him, pushing the ice of his guts harder into his heart. It beat faster, as though trying to escape from its cage. "She _told _you? Just what did she _tell _you?"

"That your mother was kidnapped. That you were born the child of an undesired marriage. That-"

"Be silent!" Maeglin cried, the rest of the air leaving him in a rush. "Be _silent!_"

There was silence, and he tried to breathe. _You betrayed me, _he wanted to rail at Idril, _these things are mine to tell. _

"—she told me to say nothing," Tuor said, disobeying the command, and Maeglin tensed, "Because she hoped that I might be able to – but it is clear to me now that it is useless. There is nothing in you to appeal to."

"What don't you understand of 'be silent,' Maeglin said, tightly, and Tuor stepped closer to him once more, standing up straight and golden. Once again, Maeglin could feel himself shrinking in his shadow.

"—you are not one of them," Tuor said, suddenly. "You have no Light in your eyes. Only lurking shadows. Are you even Eldar? Idril is afraid of you. I did not understand why, until now."

"Get out," Maeglin said, and his voice was thick. "Get _out._"

"What has poisoned you? If I knew some way to help-"

_You have, _he thought, and wanted to giggle. He strangled it down, but he still remembered the dark promise he had been made. _He will kill you. _

_Unless you join with me. _

"Leave now," he said, trembling. "If I see you here again-"

"Is there some way, something I must say to convince you?" His hand wrapped around Maeglin's wrist again, strong, a warrior's grip. "Is there one thing that will – please. I cannot leave Itarillë-"

Maeglin felt his restraint give, bending under too great a weight. "I would rather," he snarled, "Watch Gondolin fall a _thousand _times before I saw her wedded to _you._" He twisted free and shouldered past him, furious, his heart pounding in his ears.

"You are a blind _fool!_" Tuor shouted after him, but Maeglin did not turn. "Don't you understand what this _means? _You condemn all of us to death!"

_Then so be it, _he thought blackly. _At least you shall not have her. _

* * *

The hard muscle of Tuor's arm dug ruthlessly into his neck, grinding him back against the stones. His sword arm hung useless and blood was running in a cool line down one side of his face. He fought to breathe.

"Monster," Tuor snarled, and he gleamed like the sun in Maeglin's darkening vision. "_Snake. _I ought to have crushed you under my heel when I had the chance. Black and creeping thing – you die here." Tuor's face was streaked with tears, and Maeglin wanted to laugh at him. _Too late, _he would have said. _Too late. _

He struggled to expand his windpipe enough to speak. "Liar," he rasped. "You never – trusted me." _No one has ever trusted me. _

"If I had a rope," he snarled, "I would hang you." The rays of the sun fanned out behind his head like the halo of a god. Tuor dragged Maeglin to his feet, pulled him toward the edge.

"No," he managed to breathe, remembered his father falling. His scream had seemed to last forever.

"Face your death with courage, Moriquendi," he said, voice so cold it could have been Turukáno's. "It is the least you can do, when so many others did more because of your devil's work."

_He will kill you, _he thought, and laughed, half wild, and it was with a roar of rage that his enemy flung him down. _He doesn't know, _Maeglin thought dizzily. _He doesn't understand. But then, nor do I. _

Morgoth's eyes leered down at him, flensing his soul from his body with all the exquisite pain in the world.

_He will kill you, _the Dark Lord said, _unless you join with me. _The hands of the dead and dying reached up to claim his body.

"Mother," he breathed, and then everything was gone.

_Life has the name of life, but in reality it is death._ -_Heraclitus, Eustathius ad Iliad_


End file.
